Guinevere and Lancelot
by WWABD
Summary: They have sex. Simple enough.


**Authors note: Fuck You!**

The sun came up over Camelot, but you couldn't tell. For today was a dreary, rainy, shitty day. The moat was overflowing, and no one was out and about in the city. The ruler of the Kingdom, King Arthur was off on a quest to conquer the vile Mordred which would inevitably lead to failure and death, but enough of those sad tidings. This isn't a story about death; it's about love and betrayal. Within the Castle walls both of those was going on already. Guinevere (the Queen) and Lancelot (the Man-at-arms) had been wiling away the day happy to be rid of Arthur for a spell, not knowing of his doom. Lancelot had gotten a quiet rapping at his door, just as he was done polishing his sword, and he knew what this meant. Frankly everyone at court knew what this meant, for their affair was by now common knowledge. To be frank they had stopped trying to hide it years ago, which was very liberating by the way. Anyway, dressed only in a nightgown with noting under foot or underneath, Lancelot headed for the Queen's private chambers, but not before looking at himself in the full length mirror. It seems that some tales try to quench Lancelot's ego by describing him as a misshapen monster to look at. This was not the case, Lancelot found that nothing was beyond his grasp of perfection, least not beauty. He was skinny but not too skinny, and had a handsome goatee of a dark black, he blue eyes shone even in torchlight. He was a warrior after all even if he spared all a gruesome death, and his physique showed that. His arms properly muscly, and under his nightgown, his chest was a ripple of muscle and a light coating of hair. After a second of reflection and making sure his jet black hair was flipped in the best way possible, he head out of the room, straight backed and proud. As I said, they didn't care anymore. He strode across the cold stone floor (each step made his lower half swing) and finally reached the Queens door.

Before it opens I must admit I have forgotten something about the knock that Lancelot heard at his door, for after all these years the pair had created a secret knocking system in order to avoid any confusion as to what was expected. One silent knock meant that the Queen wished to discuss something in private, (usually about the King) two silent knocks meant the Queen was interested in being wooed before anything, "drastic" happened, three loud knocks meant that the King was nearby but she still wished to see him, and four silent knocks meant that nothing would stand in their way of being one. As you can guess what Lancelot heard from inside his chambers was four distinct knocks.

As he stood ready to reciprocate those same knocks against the Queen's door his lower appendage quivered slightly knowing what lie ahead. He knocked, once, twice, three times, and finally four times, and he could hear her walk to the door, bare foot, first on carpet (he merely assumed this) and then on stone. The door slowly opened as if by itself, for Guinevere was already on the bed waiting. She wasn't wearing much, only a thin white cloth covering her breasts. She was beautiful, laying sideways on the bed her lower half on full display. And in today's culture we might find her bush of curly brunette unbecoming but even the most prudent man would agree that it accented the slender legs and provided (in this instance) slight cover for the damp fissure between her legs. She watched Lancelot enter, and he watched her, the small layer of clothing on her not enough to hide anything. She was slender like him, but there was power in her stare, the green eyes piercing right through him. Her head rested on her hand her elbow resting on the pillow, her curly hair everywhere behind her and in front. All of a sudden she removed her only curtain from his wondering eyes, but she undid the ties slowly, lowering the garment so that he couldn't see the perfect globs underneath. She flung it at him with one hand the other covering her breasts. Then she flipped her hair forward and removed both hands, the curly hair rested just over the nipple hiding nothing. She motioned for him to remove his clothing as well, for at this point there was clearly something happening under Lancelot's nightgown. The protrusion was enough to make a tent of the flimsy garb. Instantaneously it was off and just as quick their body's met feet on the worm red carpet, mouths intertwined, tongues shared. The embrace was passionate and quickly hands went everywhere, for Lancelot's hand went straight down her back right down to her butt, which was firm yet perfectly round, and he gave it a squeeze. For Guinevere, she had one arm in-between the embrace, in order to stroke his chest the other reached around and messed up the hair he had make sure was perfect. In the same moment of the embrace she spread her legs slightly so as to accept his cock in-between her legs, and was now moistening it as it rubbed against her vagina which was now dripping wet. They swapped arms around so that he could fondle her exquisite boobs, and her hands traced down his chest and slowly, gently found what they were looking for, and began ever so gently to trace down the shaft never quite reaching the head. He moaned slightly and gave up on breasts to move down south. He traced around her nipple, down her cleavage, slowing down at the navel, then right down only stopping for a little bit at the clit rub, rub then down a little further. She got a firmer grip on his penis and began to stroke, stroke. With each stroke, Lancelot would move his finger more down, then inside that wet prism. As she stoked faster so his finger went faster, and soon they were moaning together daring each other to go faster, faster and faster still.

"Yes! Yes! YES!" Guinevere cried. Still standing still embracing Guinevere leaned into Lancelot and whispered in his ear, "I want you inside me, now!"

"Are you s-sure?" Lancelot asked in-between strokes.

"YES, NOW!" Guinevere replied. In a moment they were on the bed, Lancelot looking down at his love, her breasts creamy white, her face wanting. She was biting her bottom lip looking at her lubed pussy with a finger helping the process along. Then he was in, and everything seemed to speed up. Now her breasts were being tossed around this way and that, her clit would go from be getting rubbed faster and faster by her delicate fingers to not at all. Lancelot was thrusting inside of her, deeper and deeper, he grabbed one leg in each arm and hauled them over his shoulders. Even DEEPER than that. With each thrust came a moan of pleasure from Guinevere and then, OH! OH! OHH! Lancelot was reduced to grunting at this point and still he went faster. Guinevere's voice became higher pitched and she screamed

"OH YEAH! RIGHT THERE! KEEP DOING THAT!" The thrusting continued, faster and faster and FASTER! The whole bed shook, and Guinevere was going with it. As the fucking got to a certain pitch, Lancelot kept the same speed and depth. In and IN AND IN! All at once Guinevere wailed her legs shaking, and Lancelot couldn't hold back either, and in one last thrust, came inside of her yelling

"OH yeAHH!" The sweat on their bodies was enough to make them both look like they just ran a mile. Breathing heavily they lie together, him in her worm pussy, not wanting to be removed to the cold outside world. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I'm glad you messaged me my love, I did not know what to do with myself." He whispered back confusedly, "You messaged me you silly Queen," "I did, not." She replied, "But I don't care who summoned who, I am just glad that I heard you knocking on my door. It was a wonderful surprise." "But I got your message to come over first." Said Lancelot, "that's why I'm here." Guinevere's face changed from pleasure to fear in an instant. "Really?" She asked. "Of course." Replied Lancelot "I heard four knocks and came over." "Oh no!" Guinevere said.


End file.
